


London By Night

by Morpheus626



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: A follow-up/sequel thing to You Send Me!They've finally made it to London, and have time to themselves. But another tour will be starting up before they know it, and in the mean time, moving a whole ocean away is a huge adjustment for the reader for many reasons.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> A note that I did touch on a sore point in my own life, re: alcohol for comfort around family. It’s just a brief short paragraph, but I wanted to note it so it doesn’t come as a triggering surprise for anyone

“So?” 

Despite the long, turbulent flight, Freddie was smiling at you. 

“I like it.” 

He laughed, and motioned for you to follow him down the airport halls. “Just from here, you’re certain?” 

You nodded. “It’s…busy. Really busy. Busy enough no one seems to give a shit who we are or what we’re doing. I never got that back at home.” 

“No, certainly not,” Freddie tutted, and you knew he was thinking on how the trip back to your home town had been less than ideal. He’d been recognized more than once, and not always treated kindly as a result. It had made an already not fun trip even harder to deal with, and now it made you all the happier to finally be in London. 

“I am sorry about all that mess,” you sighed as you tried to keep up with Freddie, slipping around crowds of people, ignoring the heads that turned at hearing Freddie’s voice. “They could have at least made Christmas and Boxing Day decent…” 

“Don’t even think on Christmas again; we don’t need to remember that,” Freddie said, reaching back to tug you through a particularly rough thicket of people. “As far as I’m concerned, our memories were fortunately wiped of that day. We know they existed, and that we lived through them, and that’s all we need to know.” 

You nodded. “That’s probably for the best.” 

It had been a shit show, frankly. You grandparents had certainly not been sick to death, only struggling through some difficult colds, and couldn’t figure out why your mother had demanded you home. As fantastic as it had been to know they were fine, it meant the holiday had gone as “usual” for your family, which meant tears, tantrums, complaining, at least one person stomping off mid-way through present-opening, and you working to drink yourself into a stupor to get through it. 

If it hadn’t been for Freddie, you might have drank yourself blind, but thanks to his bright idea of getting away from it all under the guise of ‘showing him about town’, there was some escape. 

“I do want to remember the park,” you said as you followed him to a waiting car. “That was a good few hours, and at least the day we spent in New Orleans was lovely.” 

That had been your last day in the States, and where you had flown out from to London. It hadn’t been nearly long enough, but for a moment of refreshment and happiness, it had been good. 

He smiled. “Those parts we should remember. Everything else, forget it. And if my family asks-” 

“We had a perfectly fine holiday and my family are definitely not the weirdest near-psychopaths you’ve ever met,” you chirped as you tried to arrange yourself and your luggage in the backseat of the car. 

He rolled his eyes as he joined you. “I don’t know about psychopaths…manipulative and self-centered, for sure.” 

“Either way, your parents don’t need to know about that,” you said, and started to lean in for a kiss, then stopped. 

The driver watched you both via the rear view mirror, a scowl on his face. 

“Just a random driver hired,” Freddie whispered, shooting you a glance that read ‘be careful.’ “Not one of our usual employ.” 

You nodded, and sat back in your seat, watching the scenery of the city flash by as the driver sped down the streets. 

“Still like it?” 

“I do,” you replied. “I’ve always wanted to live in a bigger city. I can’t wait to go out and see it, any of it. Even just your garden!” 

“No garden yet, unfortunately,” he sighed. “But soon. I’ve got my eyes on a few nicer places, and now that I have the money-” 

He shrugged. “Why put off living somewhere decent, hm? Not that there’s anything wrong with a flat, I mean, only-” 

“Not everyone wants to live in a flat forever,” you interrupted. “I know I wouldn’t. And how long have you all been struggling to find and afford nicer housing? You deserve it, all of you, to be in something better. You’ve worked hard for it.” 

“You’ll still find the current flat impressive?” 

“As long as it’s yours, yes, I will,” you giggled. “Am I to assume mine is just as good?” 

“Of course,” he said. “With all the room a one bedroom can give you.” 

“In other words…” 

“Don’t have too much stuff, and don’t ever actually look at how ‘big’ it is,” Freddie sighed. “If you can manage that, you can pretend you don’t feel like an insect trapped in a jar.” 

The car pulled up in front of a frankly beautiful building, and you followed Freddie out of it and to one of the doors into it. 

“Now, I should let you know,” Freddie started. “We’re actually still waiting on the current tenants to finish moving out of your place, apparently. I don’t know all what happened, John has more details since wrangling this all went through our office, but in the meantime I thought you could…” 

He stopped, and for a minute you saw one of his other sides, the shy Freddie that hung back at times during parties, happy to stick to you and the rest of the guys and be open and fun with you, but less interested in immediately pulling any spotlight towards him. 

“If you want to, I should say. I mean, I don’t know where else you’d go, and I really should have told you this sooner, and I apologize for not doing that and-” 

“Love?” you interrupted him. “If what you’re trying to say is that I’m staying with you, then I’m thrilled.” 

He grinned. “Good. It’s a bit tight, of course, since it’s usually just me. But it’s a roof over your head, at least.” 

It was small, but it was beautiful. Decorated gorgeously, with various bits and pieces you were sure Freddie had picked up in the market. Despite how little time there would be to spend there before the next tour would start, it felt like a home. 

“Mary is just nearby us as well,” he said. “We’ll have to pay her a visit in the time we’ve got.” 

“It goes fast, doesn’t it?” 

He nodded grimly, taking your luggage from you, only to toss it by his in the bedroom. “We’ve got till…ah, I should check and make sure I’m remembering right. Seventeenth of January, I think?” 

“Think that’s it,” you mumbled, walking back to the bedroom to search your bags for your copy of the upcoming itinerary. 

“You’re the first one I’ve brought in here that hasn’t immediately started snooping around like you own the place,” Freddie was behind you suddenly, and you turned from your bag to look up his long legs. “And the first one I didn’t have to prompt to take off your shoes in the house. I appreciate that.” 

“You know my family some now,” you said. “They don’t let shoes on in the house either. I’m in no rush to pick up wearing them in as a habit either. And this is your room, I’m just crashing here. It would be wrong of me to start…god, just going through your things? What is wrong with people?”

He shrugged. “I’ve asked the ones that did rifle about my wardrobe and closet, but none have ever had a good answer for that.” 

“Well,” you said, and stood up, draping your arms around his shoulders. “I won’t be doing anything of the sort. If I should need to find something, I will be asking you, thank you very much.” 

“Your mother raised such a polite boy,” Freddie sighed. “Shame she isn’t more proud of that.” 

You winced, as the memory of your mother’s cold reception of you and Freddie during your time home came rushing back. “Let’s not think of her anymore. Not now. Not until the next American tour, maybe.” 

“As you wish, my prince,” he said, and grinned at your blush. “I think I’m going to keep calling you that. Look at you!” 

The nickname had come about after a long night in your hometown, trying to be quiet after you’d sneaked into the guest room your mother had insisted Freddie stay in. You had talked long about how the chance to move finally, and with him to London no less, made you feel like a prince in a fairy tale. Finally found by the rest of the kingdom, ready to take your proper place on the throne. Even if, in this case, the throne was merely being able to be with Freddie and continuing to work for Queen. 

“You can’t call me that in front of the guys,” you giggled. “They’ll have a field day with it.” 

“No, I won’t use it in front of them,” Freddie agreed. “But that’s because it’s just for us.” 

“I like that.” 

“As do I,” Freddie said softly. “Now, what if we show you around the place a bit?” 

You frowned slightly. “I mean…I don’t want to be rude, Freddie. But from stepping in, you can see-” 

“You’ve not had a tour of the bed yet,” Freddie interrupted with a cheeky smile. “Or should I make you wait for that? Shall I create more stops on the tour first? Maybe we ought to head out to a pub first, wander around and let you explore. Then, if we have time, we could tour the bed.” 

You pressed yourself against him, and kissed him hard. To make up for the interrupted kiss in the car, for the many kisses you had to hold back while in your home town. 

He kissed you back just as hard, but he let you down gentle onto the bed, and watched you yawn. “You should sleep.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You say that now, but have you ever traveled out of the States?” 

You shook your head. 

“Your body needs to catch up to the time change,” Freddie said. “So tell you what. We’ll save the in-depth tour for sometime tomorrow. For now, let me give you the quick tour of the bed.” 

You watched as he stripped off his shirt, unbuttoned his trousers and tossed them in a corner of the room once they were off. His eyes followed your hands as you undressed yourself, and you wanted to yell at yourself for being as tired as you had tried to pretend you weren’t. 

“Here,” he murmured, and motioned for you to lay back on the bed. “Rest.” 

Your hands roamed his shoulders, taut and strong, as he moved over you, then against you, his lips at your neck.

And then a yawn. 

“Is my tour guide going to fall asleep on me, literally?” you giggled. 

He pressed his forehead against your shoulder. “Possibly.” 

You moved gently, until you were both laying side by side, hips close, legs intertwined. Your head rested against his shoulder, and you begged your eyes to stay open. 

But it was as if the chance to finally rest, to not be traveling, running, doing, constantly had flipped a switch. There was no fighting it, especially as you listened to the slowing of Freddie’s breath, his arms around you dead weight as he slept. 

You stared down the clock for a bit, just visible on the bedside table when you looked past Freddie, until your eyes shut again.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a day on the town with Freddie and Roger as a ‘welcome to the city’ tour, but not before some family bullshit because as we’ve established, the Reader’s family is Just Like That unfortunately. 
> 
> Which will be more wild? Read on to find out (I would say more fun, but you know the former is the fun part lol.)

“I knew we’d regret that,” you muttered, and watched the telephone as it rang. “Giving her your number, so she could call if there was an emergency. It’s got to be what, one in the morning back there? 

“Maybe it isn’t her,” Freddie said gently. He’d been kind enough regarding your paranoia with your family, but you could hear the edge of worry in his voice now. “I’ll answer it.” 

The phone had been ringing constantly for the past two hours, with only a minute or two in between each call. You could think of only one person who would call like that. 

“It’s because I didn’t call her when we got in,” you explained. “She made me promise I’d call, to let her know we got in safely. I just forgot, honestly.” 

Freddie sighed, and reached to the phone on the bedside table. “Look, we both know that’s bullshit, to some degree, right? This is about control, and frankly, it’s about time she gets used to you having control over yourself, your life. She should have done years ago, if you want my honest opinion. Let me handle this.” 

You’d both had only about three hours sleep, and it was evident in Freddie’s voice. “If you’re needing Y/N, you’ll need to call back later.” 

He paused, listening, and rolled his eyes. “I am not sorry that’s such a great inconvenience to you. You knew where he was moving, yes? Then you should have been ready to deal with the time difference. He’s sleeping now, I’m not waking him for you.” 

He listened for another moment, then scoffed loudly. “Stop feeding me that shit. If you cared about your child, you’d let him be for half a minute, let him live. We spent more than the three promised days with you all, isn’t that enough? The stress you put Y/N through, just by interacting with him is ridiculous...Oh, I’m ridiculous? I think you’ll find that’s yourself that you’re talking about.” 

He let out an angry huff of breath, and mouthed ‘your mother!’ to you as he listened again. 

His frown fell as he nodded. “Well now...there’s no need to cry. Look, he forgot to call. We got in so early, neither of us could think straight. And even so, he can’t be calling you every time we travel. That would be a lot for you, and for us. Why not have a monthly call, or every other week, especially once we’re on tour, hm?” 

His voice had gone soft and sweet, and you wished desperately your mother would be the type to listen. But if she was as upset as you figured she was...

“You know, I am trying to help you,” Freddie said. “Because I love your son, and if he still wants to have a relationship with you, then I’ll support that. But if all you’re going to do is use each call, each visit we might make to you, to upset him? I won’t have that.” 

He shook his head. “Fine then. Say what you like about us to the rest of the family, if that will make you happy. But I think you’ll find it won’t, especially if they learn you’re lying. I’ll be telling him what you’re planning on doing, just so you know.” 

He set the phone down. “Perhaps I should answer the phone from now on. All calls, for the next few days, at least.” 

The tears came before you could even think to stop them. “I’m sorry. This is my fault; if I wasn’t here, she wouldn’t be bothering you, as if you don’t have enough to do already. I mean, it’s only sixteen days and then we’re on the road again-” 

The words flooded as fast as the tears, and only stopped when he pulled you close. 

“I’ll put up with as much of your mother as I must, if it means being with you,” he whispered. “And eventually, I think she’ll back down. The distance will do its work. The tour might even help with that. We’ll get there. There won’t be any more calls, and you won’t even have to think of her unless you want to.” 

You nodded. “What did she claim she’s going to tell everyone?” 

“That we’re being difficult, and rude, and isn’t that just awful after how well they treated us while we were in town, and surely everyone must agree that we’re acting very entitled and horrid to her, and should apologize.” 

“That is her go to,” you sighed miserably. “I’m sorry-” 

“No,” he said, and moved away, only to hold your arms tight, his deep brown eyes trained on yours. “You aren’t to be sorry for her. Because this is her behavior, not yours. You’ve done nothing wrong, and I know you know that. But you’re used to falling on every sword she lays in your path, even helping her set them up because that’s how she trained you-” 

His voice caught in his throat. “That’s a terrible thing to do to a child. But you’re grown now, away from her. What are you here to do?” 

“Live?” 

He nodded. “And?”

“Be happy?” 

“What else?” 

You sniffled. “Work. Meet your friends, and maybe they might be my friends too, in time. See the city, whenever we have enough time for it. And...to see what else happens, I guess. I’ve no idea what else might happen.” 

“Exactly!” he smiled. “Adventure! Even if it’s as boring as finding out you’ve got a favorite pub to frequent, or whatever! You should have had the chance to set these routines, to find all these little things out ages ago, of course. But now you can, and that’s all I want you to worry about, alright? Not her. Not your family. Not what they might be thinking or saying. Not even when they call; I want you to leave the room if you have to, and I’ll be the one to answer it.” 

You nodded. “Thank you. That isn’t saying enough, but...” 

“Don’t you worry another moment about all this, okay? Let’s just think about the rest of today, yes?” 

“It’s early,” you remarked. 

“It is,” Freddie agreed, turned his head to peek at the clock. “Now, we have no itinerary for once in our lives, so we ought to make our own. I say another hour or two of sleep should be first on it for today.” 

You yawned, and he laughed. “Is that a yes?” 

“It is,” you sighed. “Then maybe a late breakfast?” 

“Why not?” Freddie smiled. “We’ve got plenty of time, and nothing to do with it.” 

You dropped back against the pillows, and snuggled close to him after he followed. 

“And no interruptions now.” 

“Exactly,” Freddie said. “None.” 

\-------

“Is someone throwing rocks at your window?” you asked through a yawn as you sat up. “That’s what it sounds like. Or gravel, or something.” 

Freddie mumbled something you couldn’t understand, and whined as you left the bed. 

“I’m just going to go look, check the front window. You stay put.” 

You went to the front window, and peered down, only to see Roger with his arm cranked back, ready to throw another handful of gravel. 

He dropped it as soon as he saw you, and blushed. 

You worked to open the window, and leaned out of it. “Good morning, Roger! I didn’t know you were so close to us.” 

“I’m not, exactly,” Roger called up. “But I thought the two of you might want some company while he shows you about.” 

“You mean you want to join in on whatever trouble we get into?” 

He faux-scoffed, a smile on his face. “I would never suggest such a thing. Trouble, you and Freddie, and me? Never.” 

“Shall I let you up?” 

“I don’t know,” Roger answered. “Will you? And where’s Freddie?” 

“Sleeping,” you said, only to gasp as his hands found your hips and he leaned against your back, his head on your shoulder. “Never mind, he’s up!” 

“Indeed,” Freddie mumbled against your skin, kissing you lightly as he ground against your ass. “Do I need to make myself presentable?” 

“We can’t leave him outside,” you laughed. “Later, we’ll make up for it. Promise.” 

“Very well,” he yawned and let go of you as he stumbled towards the bathroom.

While he showered and got ready, you let Roger in. 

“No word on the tenants in what should be your flat yet,” he said as he joined you on the small sofa. “But John is staying on top of it, I can tell you that.” 

“I’m not too worried about it,” you said. “In the meantime, I’ve got a lovely place to stay here.” 

“You wouldn’t hate if they never moved out, and you had to stay here, would you?” he asked with a grin.

“Can you blame me?” you laughed. “I’ve only been here a day really, and-” 

You sighed happily. “Aside from my mother calling earlier, I’m just content. I can’t think of a time in my life I’ve been content as is, in the moment, existing, other than when I was on tour with you all of course. It feels nice.” 

“You deserve it,” Roger said warmly. “And your mother-” 

“Ooh, are we telling Y/N’s mother exactly where she can shove her piss-poor behavior?” Freddie interrupted cheerfully, his curls still damp as he strode over and deposited himself gently in your lap, his robe loosely tied shut. “Because I have a list.” 

“As do I,” Roger said. “Shall we send a combined one to her in a card, perhaps? Or what do Americans do to passive-aggressively tell one another to fuck right off, Y/N?” 

You giggled. “I think the card would be fine, but we probably shouldn’t. She’ll just call to tell us how terrible we are after she gets it.” 

“Then we’ll leave the phone off the hook,” Freddie said and gave you a peck on the cheek. “We’ll need to do that for at least a day here before we go back out on tour...” 

You blushed, but Roger laughed. 

“You should. The time’ll go fast, it always seems to. But for today, I thought I could help show you around, make sure we don’t lose you in the city.” 

“I wouldn’t get lost,” you teased. “Because frankly you could fit at least three of my hometown in probably one part of London, and I’m terrified to explore it without someone with me for now.” 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Freddie said. “You’ll get used to it, and then I’ll never keep you in the house.” 

“I can be a homebody,” you said. “Trust me. I like exploring and going out just fine, but I’m a sucker for a comfortable home with someone I love.” 

“Then we’ll be lucky to get you out of here again for the next tour,” Roger joked. 

“If anyone could get me out of the house, it would be all of you,” you said. “Speaking of, let me go get ready if we’re going to paint the town red.” 

Freddie was lounged across you now, and as loathe as you were to move him, you weren’t about to go out in a new city unshowered and without clean clothes. After all, it wasn’t tour anymore where you could occasionally get away with that. 

You could hear their voices dimly as you took your turn in the shower, but only got bits and pieces of the conversation. 

“I’m glad he makes you happy,” you could hear Roger say. “I told him he would probably be thrilled if those tenants never moved out and he could stay with you.” 

“Would it be too forward to ask him?” Freddie’s voice was faint, like he was trying but failing to whisper. “I mean, it’s tight in here but we could find somewhere new, bigger. And then John doesn’t have to worry about that other flat here at all.” 

“If that’s what you both want, then why not?” Roger’s laugh echoed down the hall. “You’re both happy this way, why turn down something good?” 

You bit back a smile as you went into the bedroom to gather some clean clothes, dressed, then trotted back to the living room. 

“You going out in that, or should we give you a moment to dress?” you teased Freddie as you sat beside him on the couch. 

“You would like it if I was out in just this, wouldn’t you?” 

“Only if I’m the only one that gets to admire the view if it falls open,” you smiled. 

Roger shook his head and laughed as Freddie dashed off to dress. “So, once we’re finally all ready to go, is there anywhere in particular you want to go first?” 

You shrugged. “I mean, there’s one place for sure, the Tate. But after that...you two have the reins! Take me wherever!” 

“Good! I was hoping you’d be up for a bit of whatever, no real plan,” Roger said. “You get sick of it, after tour.” 

You nodded. “Be here at this time, and wait, but there’s no time to go do much else, then go here at this time, and do some more waiting, and maybe sleep somewhere in between there.” 

“Exactly,” Roger said. “We can show you where we used to have our stall, all the old haunts, if you’d like.” 

“I would very much like,” you said. “I knew some about all of that, but is the market still there?” 

“Indeed it is,” Freddie said as he strode back into the room. “And we were terrible salespeople.” 

“There was the issue of wanting to keep a lot of what we were going to sell,” Roger admitted. 

“In your defense, if it’s anything like what you both wear now, I get it,” you said. 

“See, Brian and John never understood it,” Roger sighed. “But you get it! The mark of a smart man, that is.” 

You shook your head and laughed as you stood and followed Freddie outside, Roger on your tail. 

“We’ve got a small plan, the rest is up in the air,” Roger said. “The Tate, the market, and then wherever else we can think of, according to Y/N.” 

“I like it,” Freddie said. “If you think of anywhere else though, Y/N, you let us know, alright?” 

You nodded, and took in the sight of the street as you followed them. It was as exhilarating as it was slightly anxiety-inducing, but there couldn’t have been a more beautiful sunny day for it. And the sight of that sun as it glinted off of Freddie’s dark hair and illuminated the smile he wore (and didn’t hide, as he so often did, a hand flying to his face to cover his teeth) made it even better.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting this out; some time out with Freddie and Rog, a visit to the Tate, and plans for dinner! Couldn’t be a nicer intro to London!

“This is to be expected,” Freddie said as you all ducked under the terrace the cafe. “You said you like rain, right?” 

You nodded, and watched as the rain thundered down. It had gone from sunny to pouring in seemingly seconds, and you were all soaked, but it hadn’t put a damper on things. 

“You learn to bring a coat, or an umbrella, or to expect you’ll end up soaked,” Roger said, and plucked a hand at your wet and now see-through white button up shirt. “We should have mentioned before we left, that’s on us. Also on us for not actually bringing an umbrella, now that I think about it.” 

Freddie turned and gasped. “Goodness, I didn’t even think about your shirt. Here.” 

He had his jacket, black silk and the tiniest garment you had seen in your life off in a flash. 

“Love, I appreciate it, but we are slightly differently sized,” you said softly. 

He wrapped it around your shoulders. “That’ll do for now, and we’ll stop in at a shop to get you something. The market might have something, in fact.” 

“We could run back and I could grab a coat,” you protested weakly. You hadn’t gotten your money changed over yet, and you didn’t want Freddie over-spending on your behalf. 

But you had also learned that Freddie wasn’t swayed when it came to buying and/or gifting things to those he loved, and as soon as the rain let up you were back on route, with Freddie window shopping as you went. 

“It’s odd that it gets cold enough to snow at night, but that this won’t freeze instantly,” you remarked as you walked. “I keep expecting to end up ass over teakettle, but it’s only puddles.” 

“That would have been the case back at home, I take it?” Roger asked. 

You nodded. “It gets cold there for winter and stays cold well into what should be the spring. Rain during January would be a cause for panic, because it means traveling on icy roads that, if I may be frank, are fucking hell.” 

“And the sidewalks?” 

“I once slipped and landed flat on my back, and since I was on a hill, I just let myself slide until I could roll into someone’s lawn,” you replied, wincing at the memory. “You should have seen me. I gave up and laid there for a good five minutes before I kept on walking home. Can’t imagine what the home owners were thinking during that time...” 

Freddie chuckled. “They should be so lucky to have you splayed out on their lawn. You weren’t hurt, were you?” 

You shrugged. “My pride more than anything else. There’s no dignified way to slip on ice. My back did have some lovely big bruises that took ages to fade though.” 

“Poor darling,” Freddie murmured, and pulled you close to him for a quick hug. “We’ll keep you indoors when it gets that cold here, and keep you safe.” 

“I appreciate it,” you said, and you meant it wholeheartedly. The thought of spending cold nights snuggled up warm with Freddie sounded perfect. 

“Hate to say, but it’ll be even colder in Germany,” Roger winced. “We’ll all want to be inside there, I imagine.” 

“Be worth it though,” Freddie said. “And if you like it here, then I think you’ll love the rest of Europe, Y/N. Lots of variety, and very...” 

“Not American?” you asked, watching as he searched for the word he wanted. 

“That’s about it, yes,” he smiled. “Even in the cold, I think you’ll find traveling around here to be to your taste.” 

So far, that certainly seemed to be the truth, because even in the cold rain, it was a joy to be wandering with them. They dipped in and out of various stories about the early days of Queen, even before they’d found John, about running the stall, anything and everything. 

“And I still have that coat,” Freddie said, finishing off the latest story.

“And I,” Roger said. “Will forever be apologizing for accidentally selling it.” 

“We got it back, that’s what counts,” Freddie said. “How are you doing, Y/N?” 

You hadn’t wanted to let on that your legs were starting to ache, but there was no hiding it now that you had slowed down a great deal. “Well..this is a big city.” 

“It is,” Roger chuckled. “Are you alright?” 

“I will be,” you replied. “How far away are we from our next stop?” 

“If we keep on in the order that was mentioned,” Freddie replied. “Then that’s the Tate first, and that’s still a ways off. We can take a break-” 

“No!” you interrupted, not meaning it one ounce. “I’m fine. This is fine.” 

“Back in Y/N’s hometown, things were closer to each other,” Freddie told Roger, and then turned to you. “So if this is a bit much, we really can stop.” 

“If we stop, I might not get started again,” you admitted. “I’ll get used to this, I promise.” 

“Of course you will,” Freddie said, and took you by the arm to lead you towards a nearby wall to lean against. “We could see about catching a bus, instead.” 

“No, no,” you said, but Roger and Freddie were already figuring it out, consulting about the location of the next stop and the necessary routes. 

“What about a cab?” Roger suggested. “Treat ourselves, since this is a special trip around anyway.” 

“Now, don’t you go to any extra expense on my behalf,” you protested weakly.

“We’ve been out for about...oh, forty minutes, of just walking?” Freddie mused. “You’ve made it decently far, for your first time out like this. There’s no shame in letting us treat you, and us by extension, with someone to drive us the rest of the way.” 

“What about getting back?” you posited. “Ah ha, what then?” 

“Then if it really bothers you so much, the cost of it all,” Freddie replied. “We’ll see about getting your money changed over, and you can cover it.” 

“That would do, actually,” you said. “Fine, you’ve won me over!” 

“I was kidding about that last bit,” Freddie said. “We can afford it.”

“No, I want to help pay my way for this!” you insisted.

Freddie shook his head. “I can’t talk you out of it, can I?” 

“You cannot,” you smiled as Roger did the frankly horrible work of trying to hail a cab while the rain continued to pour. “Should we help him?” 

“There’s not much we can do,” Freddie said. “It’s really-” 

“In the lap of the gods?” 

He smirked. “Clever. But actually, kind of. Though he is putting on a hell of a show.” 

Finally, Roger’s waving, cursing, and general dashing about the pavement paid off, and you were all tucked into a cab, headed for the Tate. 

“I’ll pay you both back for this ride,” you said. “And I’ll cover all of the one back, alright?” 

“We said this was a treat,” Roger said. “That means you don’t have to pay us back. Though if you want to pay for the ride home, go for it.” 

“But-” 

“Y/N,” Freddie interrupted gently. “This isn’t like a ‘treat’ with your family, where you still end up owing them somehow. Let us take care of you some. Enjoy the hospitality.” 

“God, you really do have stories from your holiday with them, don’t you?” Roger asked. “You’ve got to tell me more later, you know that, right?” 

“Tell you what,” Freddie said. “You come back with us and stay for dinner, and we’ll tell you all about it.” 

“Dinner and a show, I can’t possibly ask for more,” Roger smiled. “Unless you’d rather not talk about it, Y/N.” 

“I think it would be cathartic,” you said. “And I’d love to hear more about you two getting into trouble around here. I know there are more stories than what you’ve told me already.” 

“Always presuming trouble with us,” Roger joked. “As if we could ever get into trouble.” 

“Never,” Freddie said with a dramatic shake of his head. 

“That isn’t even remotely convincing, you do know that?” you giggled. 

“You sound just like my mum,” Roger sighed. 

“She sounds like a smart woman,” you said. 

“Now,” Roger fussed. “More of that and I won’t let you lecture at me about the art.” 

“How do you know I’m going to do that?” 

“Because,” Roger said. “You’re dating Freddie, and that’s what he does to me at museums. I presume I’m getting a coordinated bunch of lectures for this visit, with you two.” 

You laughed, but caught Freddie’s eye, and nodded. “Okay, yeah. That’s probably what it would have been. But I’ll refrain and restrain myself from it, I promise.” 

“No, you go ahead and do it! I don’t mind the occasional lecture,” Roger said. “So long as it’s coming from people I like. You, Freddie, Brian most of the time, John doesn’t necessarily lecture so much as he just gets going on a topic and doesn’t stop...” 

The cab stopped, and you found yourself giddy and speechless as you stepped out and followed them into the museum. 

“They’re adding on to this, did you know?” Freddie asked as he turned to make sure you kept close. “A whole new wing, so we’ll have to bring you back here once it’s opened.” 

“I’d like that,” you managed, taking his arm so you could walk and look and not lose them as you did. 

“Adorable,” Freddie laughed. “I don’t know if you’ll get any lectures from Y/N this time, Rog. He’s speechless; this place has broken him.” 

“In the best way,” you mumbled. “There’s so...much. I feel like I could spend days in here.” 

“Oh you could,” Roger said. “At least, I’m quite sure you could. And Freddie. Locked in here together after hours, and you probably wouldn’t even notice until they found you while opening up the next morning.” 

“That would be wonderful,” you sighed. 

They only laughed, and let you lead then as you bounced from artwork to artwork, returning to Freddie’s arm in between. 

\---

“Two hours,” Roger mused as you exited the museum. “Not bad time. I thought we’d be in there the rest of the day.” 

“I’m almost overwhelmed,” you admitted. “Otherwise we might have been.” 

“A good overwhelmed?” Freddie asked, that beautiful and gentle concern in his eyes. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. “Just a lot, all at once. It’s all good, but I’ll certainly need another visit to take it all in decently.” 

“I think we can arrange that,” Freddie smiled. 

“No fucking near the artwork,” Roger scolded.

“Roger!” Freddie actually blushed, though no one in the crowd seemed to have noticed your conversation. 

“I’m just trying to help you out, making sure you two don’t get into any trouble for your next visit,” Roger said, hands held up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger!” 

“Thank you,” Freddie told him with a laugh. “We’ll bear that in mind. Now, since this has been a lot, would you rather we head home, Y/N? We can always take you around more in the coming days, you know.” 

Your heart swelled for a moment at that. Home. You were home, truly home, for the first time in your life. And home was with him, and it was another thing that was almost too much, but in the best way. 

“Rog? Would you mind terribly if we cut the night short, and headed home? We could get an early dinner in a few hours, and hang out until then?” you asked. 

“I’m down for whatever,” Roger replied, again working to hail a cab. “At least it stopped raining.” 

As if on cue, thunder boomed, and Roger pointed to the sky. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Does that work often?” you giggled as a cab approached, and you all piled inside. 

“No, but you can pretend you’ve got an iota of control over it for a moment, and that’s nice,” Roger answered. 

The rain started to pour again, and he grinned. “See, there’s the iota gone again. I had it for a second though.” 

Back at home, being rain-soaked yet again in the short time it took to get out of the cab and into the flat meant that you were all in need of fresh clothes. 

“That’s never going to be anything but cute, you know that?” you asked as you watched Roger go through Freddie’s clothes. 

“What is?” 

“You two, and the clothes sharing!” you replied. “Convenient in times like this, as well.” 

“Thank goodness for it,” Roger said as he changed. “Also, isn’t this sweatshirt Brian’s?” 

Freddie had been setting the table (really just the coffee table for sake of ease of conversation, but he had fine china to put out on it nonetheless) and ducked his head in. “Maybe? How can you tell?” 

Roger lifted his arms, and a good amount of extra material hung off of his hands.

“Ah, yes, that’s his,” Freddie confirmed. “You’ll learn that little trick, Y/N. You know it’s Brian’s if it hangs off of the rest of us in the arms-” 

“And if Bri has something on that should be long-sleeved, but it’s more like three quarters on him, then he’s wearing something of ours,” Roger interrupted and continued. “Ought to ask him where he got this; I like it.” 

“Just hang onto it, and you can give it back to him the next time he’s over at yours,” Freddie said. “Now, we should figure out dinner. We could go pick something up; I think the rain has lifted finally. But we’ll bring an umbrella just in case of course, and-” 

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted him, and you leaned out the bedroom door as he went to answer it. 

He peeked through the spyhole in the door, and sighed. 

“Y/N? You aren’t going to fucking believe this.” 

You strode over, and he moved to let you peek out as well. 

There, looking damp from the recently-ended rain, stood your mother.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble has arrived in London, and Freddie and the reader (and Roger, since he’s trapped in this now as well, the poor thing just wanted a dinner party with his friends) must figure out how to deal with it. 
> 
> tw for mention of anxiety attacks, casual near-misgendering and misgendering of the reader (fun fact: based on how my own mum misgenders me! and I can never tell if she’s doing it maliciously or on accident, so that’s how it is in here as well!), and just like...stress. Lots of stress over dealing with a toxic family member. This chapter was cathartic and painful to write all at once, and if you’ve ever wondered what my mum can be like when she’s at her worst...well, here’s an example of it lmao.

“Oh fuck no,” you whispered. “What is she doing here? How did she get here? She would have had to be on a flight not long after we talked to her, how is that possible, how long was she planning this-” 

Freddie cut you off with a quick kiss. “I know. And I would like to know all that as well. But for now, she’s here.” 

“I can help,” Roger offered, emerging from the bedroom. “Let me answer it.” 

“Roger,” you started. “I should do it, no one else should have to-” 

“What I’m hearing,” Roger interrupted gently. “Is that I should answer the door, and explain that you two are in the kitchen _planning our dinner for the night_. Right?” 

The lightbulb flashed on, and you nodded. “Yes. Dinner. Planning on how to deal with unexpected...dinner.” 

Freddie ushered you into the kitchen, and you both listened as Roger finally opened the front door. 

“Hello! How can I help you?” 

“I’m looking for my dau-my child,” your mother hurriedly corrected herself. “Sh-sorry. They should be staying here, I believe? With their friend.” 

“If you mean Y/N, and his boyfriend, Freddie,” Roger said, a hint of testiness in his voice. “Then yeah, you’ve got the right place. Otherwise, you might be mistaken.” 

“That’s what I meant,” your mother said, and you could hear the icy edge in her voice, and it made you shiver more than the cold rain all day ever had. 

“Well then. They’re currently working to figure out what we’re having for dinner. A little mini dinner party, it is. Myself, and them,” Roger continued. “Shall I let them know you stopped by?” 

“I need to speak with her...them...h-” your mother stammered. “Oh, you know who I mean.” 

“I know that there are three men in here, one that goes by the name of Y/N, and that he’s preoccupied at present,” Roger said. “Again, shall I let them know what hotel you’re at and they can call you in a while?” 

“I don’t have a hotel,” your mother replied. “I assumed a mother would be allowed to stay with her child.” 

“This is a tiny flat,” Roger chuckled. “I think they barely fit.” 

“And yet you’re here,” your mother chirped, robotically cheery. 

“Well, I’m only visiting, not staying the night,” Roger replied. 

“What do we do?” you whispered to Freddie. “I can’t send her away!” 

“No, we can’t,” Freddie muttered. “Let me go out and help him. You stay here.” 

He strode back out, and you listened as he intervened. 

“Hello! I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon! Can I ask what brings you by?” Freddie was all charm, as if it was every day his boyfriend’s toxic mother stopped by unannounced. 

“I was worried,” she replied. “With Y/N being so far away, all alone.” 

“He’s not alone, he’s got me,” Freddie said, the charm dropping as his voice sharpened. 

“I know,” your mother said brightly. “But alone, without me.” 

You could feel the tension, hear the breath that Freddie took that let you know he was properly angry now, rightly offended enough that the ‘stiff upper lip’ was about to break and shatter all over your mother. 

“Well,” Freddie finally said, and the restraint was clear in his voice. “Why don’t you come in? There’s no guest room, but we have a couch you can use later, until I can get you a hotel room.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to put you to all that trouble,” your mother said. “I’ll just stay here.” 

Another slow, tense breath from Freddie. “And how long shall you be here?” 

She giggled, and your heart sank. 

“I was thinking at least a week. To make sure Y/N is settling in okay, maybe longer if he needs me more,” she said. “And I certainly don’t mind the vacation! Work was not pleased with me using so much time off, but luckily I work for such an understanding woman. She’s a mother too, she gets it.” 

“Delightful,” Freddie said, and you swore that you could see your breath on the freezing air his words generated. “Please. Make yourself at home.” 

“I’ll do my best,” your mother said. “But this is your home, not mine. Or anyone else’s.” 

You slipped to sit against the kitchen wall, fighting off the oncoming anxiety attack she was giving you. Part of you wanted to run out, screaming that this was your home, more than living with her ever had been, just to see the look on her face. The other part of you wanted to curl up and hide in a cabinet until she left, whenever that would be. 

“Where is my gi-child, anyway?” your mother asked. “Y/N? Come see me!” 

“You know, since you’re here, can I tell you what a lovely day we had with Y/N?” Roger interjected, and you tried to thank him telepathically for the stalling. 

Freddie was in the kitchen in a flash while they talked.

He knelt down in front of you, and took your hand. “I know you aren’t ready. But you know she’ll keep asking to see you. I’ll be right beside you, and as soon as I can, I’ll convince her to go to a hotel. I’ll pay for it, she won’t be able to argue with me.” 

You sighed shakily. “You say that, but she argues with everyone if they don’t give her the answer she wants.” 

“Lucky then that I’m more than willing to argue until I’m out of breath on your behalf,” Freddie said with a small smile. “I’ve got you. Let’s get this over with, and I’ll make up some excuse for us to go to bed as soon as dinner is over.” 

He helped you stand, and after a moment of deep breaths, you let him lead you to the living area. 

“Hi, mum,” you managed. 

She stood and wrapped you in a hug, and you awkwardly hugged back, watching as Roger and Freddie winced at the sight. 

“As I was saying,” Roger continued. “The Tate really is lovely, I think you’d love to visit it. Perhaps, you could take it in for a day, while Y/N and Freddie continue their preparations for the tour. After all, that’s not far off now.” 

“Y/N can take me there,” your mother said. “Isn’t that right?” 

“We could probably figure something out for that,” you said, yelling at yourself internally for not arguing, not fighting back, being the doormat once again for her to step on.

“We’ll see,” Freddie said. “Now, Y/N and I were going to get the takeaway for dinner...” 

“Yes,” Roger agreed, and caught your gaze as he nodded, and you knew he was on for whatever plan there was to deal with your mother. You wanted to thank him then for being such a good and steady ally, but there was no way to do it surreptitiously. “And I can tell you about the rest of our day! And the city, of course.” 

“You could come with,” you tried to offer, but Roger shook his head. 

“No, let me stay so your mum isn’t here alone,” Roger said, and you fought back a shudder as you realized what damage she could do exploring the place if she was left alone. You hadn’t thought of that right away. “We’re having a wonderful conversation anyway, aren’t we?” 

Your mother shrugged. “I suppose we are. We’ll wait here for you, but be fast! I’ve got so much to update you on about home!” 

“I’ve barely been gone,” you laughed nervously. “What could have possibly happened since then?” 

“You would know if you were there!” your mother smiled. “But no worries, I will tell you all the details!” 

You nodded, and tried not to show how eager you were to leave as you pulled on your shoes. Freddie had his on already along with a jacket, and he tossed you one of his looser, bigger coats before you walked out. 

You made it outside, and down the street, and into an empty alley before you pulled him to you in a hard kiss. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. “Lot of energy, needed to get it out, and wanted to do it in a good way, and I like kissing you, and I hate this situation with every bone in my body, and-” 

He held you tightly, and kissed you back just as hard. “I know. It’s okay. We’re going to get through this. Before you know it, she’ll be gone.” 

“But she’ll be in the city,” you couldn’t help but whine. “And she’ll want to spend every day with me, and will be horrible if I don’t jump to her whims and wants, and I won’t let her be horrible to you.” 

“But you’ll let her be horrible to you,” Freddie said softly. “And I can’t allow that. So we’ll figure it out, together. To start, we get through dinner tonight. Tomorrow, I convince her that she’ll love how fancy the hotels are here, and set her up in a nice one-” 

“Freddie, the money!” you interrupted, and he shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my money, I decide how I use it. And if I want to use to put some distance between us and your mother, then I feel that’s money well spent.” 

“I’ll pay you back,” you insisted. “We forgot to go and get my money changed after the museum anyway; I know you think I forgot, but I realized once we were in the cab, and I’ll pay you back for that ride as soon as my money is changed over.” 

“Y/N,” he murmured. “Please. I love you, I don’t mind spending money on you! You act like I’ve spent myself into poverty on your account, and I haven’t! And even if I had, that’s my choice!” 

You took a breath, and rested your head against his shoulder. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Freddie said. “You mean well, I know you do. But there will be plenty of opportunities for you to spend money on me, if you so wish. For us to split expenses on some things. Please don’t weigh down your head with worries about the money, okay?” 

You nodded. “Dinner?” 

“Dinner,” he agreed. “No fussing about me paying for it, right?” 

“No fussing,” you said with a chuckle. “Where are we getting it from, anyway?” 

“A little place I know of,” Freddie said cryptically. “How is your mother in regards to Indian food?” 

“I don’t think she’s ever had it,” you replied. “If I’m honest with you, I haven’t ever either. We don’t have any restaurants that serve it back in my hometown.” 

“This will be a night of exploration for both of you then!” he declared, and led you down the street, around a few corners, down again, then up, until you were at a small restaurant. 

You let him order everything, you didn’t even know where to begin, but it all smelled good, and you trusted him. On the food, and on how to deal with your mother. You had no idea how he managed it, because you knew he had his own moments of fear and anxiety that could freeze him too. But then something like this came up; he radiated an air that suggested everything would be fine, no matter what happened, and that he was in control, even when it seemed he couldn’t possibly have any control over the situation.

You were able to relax as you helped him carry the food home, careful now as the temperature dropped and the sidewalks for once grew a bit slippery from the last rainfall. It was cold, but if you’d had the choice, you would have happily picnicked with him outside the whole night (after saving Roger from your mum, of course, so he could join you.) 

“Ready?” Freddie asked as you reached the door to his flat. 

You nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” 

“There’s my man,” Freddie smiled, and kissed you quickly before opening the door. 

“You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve,” Roger was shouting, and you winced. 

“Ah, so it’s all going well then,” Freddie said calmly as he helped you inside. “Here, I’ll deal with them. You take the food to the kitchen.” 

You set the bags of food carefully on the floor so you could take off your shoes, and listened as you did. 

“I have nerve?! You have nerve telling me how to be a mother!” your mother didn’t often shout, she usually didn’t reach that point with most people, they’d give in to her well before that. But she was loud now, and you pitied your neighbors. 

“All I’m saying,” Roger huffed. “Is my mother wouldn’t have followed me across an ocean after I’d barely been gone from home. She’d trust me to be on my own, to be with friends and loved ones-” 

Your mother scoffed. “What a mother she sounds like.” 

“Don’t you fucking insult my mother!” Roger sounded like the lion that represented him on the Queen crest, the way he roared, but you couldn’t blame him. “If she knew about this, and I fully intend to tell her, she’d be calling to give you a tongue-lashing herself!” 

“We have food!” Freddie interrupted. “Let’s eat, we can debate more later. Have you had Indian food before, ma’am? I think you’ll like it; Y/N mentioned he’ll be trying it for the first time tonight as well! I think that’s just lovely, don’t you? Travel lets you explore so much, even with food!” 

He was clearly stalling for you, and you picked up your pace, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the food and bring it out to the coffee table, that was just big enough for what you figured were the main dishes. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Freddie said warmly, and gestured for you to sit beside him on the floor. On the couch, your mother and Roger sat tensely, eyeing one another even as they dished up. 

“I should apologize,” Roger muttered. “I don’t like to shout, I am sorry for that.” 

“As you should be,” your mother replied, and you bit your tongue, willing her to just be quiet and not poke at Roger more, who had done more than his fair share in dealing with her at this point, as far as you were concerned. 

He glared, but tucked into the food instead. “Thank you for dinner, Freddie. It’s good. The usual place?” 

Freddie nodded. “Y/N? What do you think?” 

You nodded. “Good. Different, but I like it.” 

“Hm,” your mother tutted. “Maybe it isn’t so bad, your being out here. You know, Y/N never wanted to try new foods back at home. If this gets you to do that, then that’s good.” 

“I did try some things,” you protested weakly. “But you were worried about wasting food-” 

“As you should be too,” your mother interrupted. “Now, Freddie was nice enough to buy you dinner, so don’t waste any of this, alright?” 

You wanted the floor to open up and drop you into the core of the earth, until Freddie’s hand moved from his silverware to find yours under the table. 

“I’m not worried about that,” Freddie said, as calm and soft as a summer breeze. “It’ll be nice to have left overs for the rest of the days we’re here, and this should get us through a good few of them.” 

Your mother nodded, but you caught her look to Freddie. You couldn’t tell if he had seen it and was ignoring it, or simply hadn’t seen it at all, as he ate one-handed, his other hand still in yours. 

Roger finished up, and gave you a pained look. “I ought to be heading home. I’m sorry to be leaving early-” 

“You’ve spent most of the day with them, haven’t you?” your mother asked sharply. 

“We had planned for a longer night together, but we’ll have to save that for another time,” Roger continued testily. “I need to call my mother yet tonight. But I’ll call you guys tomorrow, okay?” 

His eyes met yours at his last sentence, and you nodded gratefully. 

“Thanks again to both of you for the good time today, and you have a good rest of your night,” Roger continued, ignoring your mother as if she’d disappeared into thin air. He leaned down to rest a hand on your shoulder, then gathered his things.

And then he was gone, and the tiny flat felt somehow even smaller, like it was constricting you to death. You tried not to squeeze too hard at Freddie’s hand, but it was that or you knew you’d bolt from the room, and you weren’t about to force him to be alone with her. 

“I should go get the rest,” Freddie said gently, and squeezed your hand back before he got up. “I think you’ll both enjoy the dessert especially. Not quite as sweet as what you gave me back in your hometown, but sweet enough!” 

He stepped into the kitchen, and you had to force yourself not to hold your breathe and count the seconds until he was back. You could feel your mother’s eyes on you, watching as you finished the last of the food on your plate, wiping it clean of curry and sauce with some naan, purely to spite her but also because the naan was rather addictive. 

“You seem happy,” she said. 

“I am,” you replied. “Very. Happier than I think I’ve ever been before. I love Freddie, I love the city. It’s all wonderful.” 

“You just got here,” she said. “And you haven’t known him for that long. Weren’t you supposed to have your own apartment out here?” 

“We’re working on that, the previous tenants need to move out first,” you replied. “In the meantime, Freddie is letting me stay with him.” 

“And it’s made this place all the better for it,” Freddie said as he made his way back to the table, setting down the dessert on the table. He’d taken it out of the container from the restaurant, and plated it beautifully on a platter from his china set, and the effort he was making to impress your impossible-to-impress mother was both sweet, and made you want to weep. “If they can’t move out, then Y/N is more than welcome to stay here with me, as long as he likes. And if not, then I’ll visit him at his flat each day, or he can come visit me.” 

“Sounds like you’d rather Y/N moved in with you permanently,” your mother muttered. “That seems a bit fast.” 

“If Y/N is comfortable moving in with me, then I am happy to have him do that,” Freddie said. “If he’d rather have his own place, then I’ll help him get one, and visit him. I want whatever he wants, whatever will make him the happiest.” 

His last sentence was a loaded one, and you fought to keep your breathing normal, to calm your racing heart, as you waited for your mother’s reaction. 

“That’s what I want as well,” she finally said. “Within reason, of course. Y/N has a tendency to shoot for the stars, but sometimes forgets that we can’t always reach them, you know.” 

“Lucky then that I would move the stars for him if I could, and if he so desired,” Freddie said coldly. “I think I’m full. How about you, Y/N?” 

You managed a nod. “I’m tired.” 

“Me too. I think we’ll get ready for bed,” Freddie said. “Y/N, why don’t you go rest in the bedroom. I’ll show your mother the washroom, and make sure she can get settled for the night, and after she’s done, we’ll take our turns.” 

You nodded again, and started to grab at empty plates, but Freddie waved your hands away, and motioned to the bedroom. 

You took the hint, and walked towards it, relief at being away from her washing over you the closer you got. 

“Y/N,” your mother said. “Sleep well! I love you.” 

Sweat dripped down your back, and you wanted to curl into a ball on the floor, to break down. 

Instead, you turned, and smiled as best you could. “Love you too, Mum.” 


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N’s mother continues her reign of terror, and we get some NSFW with Freddie and the reader in this one (because jesus, who wouldn’t need some form of stress relief after the last chapter. I should know, I wrote it!) It is pretty explicit though, so if that isn’t your thing, just a warning!   
> w for more of the usual near-misgendering and full out misgendering from the Reader’s mum. Also for some shit-talking re: top surgery scars (aka guess what my own mum has said she doesn’t want to see once I finally get surgery done!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This: https://www.milestonehotel.com/location is the hotel I’m using for the fic; as far as I can tell via some basic research it appears that it would have been operational in the late seventies as a hotel?

It seemed all too long for Freddie to clean up and make sure your mother was settled, and you nearly leapt into his arms when he finally came into the bedroom.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all of this. You shouldn’t even be having to deal with her. I’m so sorry.” 

He hushed you. “She’s on the couch now, resting. Probably not asleep yet, but quiet, at least.” 

You giggled. “It’s a miracle.” 

“It is!” 

“I owe Rog one,” you sighed. “A big one. If he’s ever in mortal danger, maybe I could come close to paying him back.” 

“You know he didn’t mind helping, or he wouldn’t have stayed,” Freddie said, quiet, mindful of your mother being so close. “And I’m willing to bet he will have his mother call here to speak to her tomorrow, so that should be interesting. We’ll have to make popcorn for that show.” 

“Oh god,” you muttered, and flopped back on the bed while he undressed. “She’s radioactive or something. She gets near, and it spreads to everyone. Why?” 

“Misery loves company,” he said. “I’m going to go get ready. You alright in here, alone?” 

“You think she might try and sneak in or something?” 

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” 

You groaned, and turned over onto your stomach to mutter wordlessly into the mattress. 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and you tried to relax as he left. 

There were at least the sounds to focus on. His soft footfalls in the hall, the sound of the faucet in the bathroom. The little bits of humming that floated on the air, sometimes from current Queen songs, other things that you didn’t recognize but figured you might hear on the next album.

You weren’t exactly sleepy by the time he got back, but you were relaxed enough to be breathing normally. 

He joined you on the bed, a hand resting gently on your back. “You want to go get ready? I’ll be ready to jump out there, in case she tries to ambush you.” 

“How on earth did this turn into a war?” you sighed. “Or was it always one?” 

“She seems to make a lot of things feel like one,” Freddie replied. “I mean, going off my two experiences with her so far, and what you’d told me about her before. First impressions aren’t always accurate, of course, but this one seems to be.” 

You nodded. “I need to brush my teeth.” 

“Dash out there, get it done, and dash back,” Freddie advised. “I’ll catch her if she gets up and tries to bother you. Ready?” 

You giggled despite yourself. He had a way of making it almost fun. “Ready.”

You did just as he said, and quietly darted down the hall to the bathroom. It was difficult, but you tried to listen for any sounds of movement over the sound of the faucet as you readied yourself for bed. Just as you thought it was safe, you heard a creak from the sofa.

You opened the door to find her standing there, but Freddie was already out of the bedroom, in a pair of lounge sweatpants and his satin robe, untied and fluttering as he moved. 

“Is there something you need? We can get it for you, whatever it is,” he said. “Glass of water, midnight snack-” 

“No,” she interrupted. “I just...wanted to make a request.” 

“Oh,” he said. “Well then. What can we help you with?” 

“I ask only that, if you two...do anything...in bed tonight, that you be mindful of the noise,” she replied to him, but her eyes were locked on yours. “When you were back at home, it occasionally got...well. Creaks of the bed, and things like that. No one wants to hear that.” 

You watched Freddie’s Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, his lips pursed. You had a feeling you knew what he wanted to say, that this was his damned flat and he’d make all the damned noise in bed he wanted (an opinion you agreed with completely), but instead, he sighed. 

“We’ll be mindful. As we tried to be then, as well.” 

“Practice makes perfect, I suppose,” she tutted. “Just so long as it doesn’t wake me up.” 

You could see in Freddie’s eyes the plan he wanted to enact, and that frankly, you wanted to as well. To fuck as hard and as loudly as you could, so that you’d wake not just her, but the neighbors and half the block as well if you did it right. 

But again, he showed restraint. “We wouldn’t want that. Sleep well. Y/N, shall we away?” 

You eagerly took his hand and walked with him to the bedroom, shutting the door to it behind you, and locking it. 

You both dropped to the bed with exasperated sighs. 

“She is...so tiring,” Freddie muttered, covering his face with his hands. “How on earth have you lived with her your entire life, without help to deal with her?” 

“I don’t know, I guess,” you admitted. “You can get used to anything, if you never know any different.” 

“Well, you know different now,” Freddie said. “And if I have my way, you will never have to get used to that, to her, ever again.” 

“Tomorrow, we get her to a hotel,” you said.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I’m almost too tired to fuck.” 

“Aww,” you said softly. “That’s a shame. I was hoping to fuck you into the bed, hard enough that we both forget tonight even happened.” 

“I said almost,” Freddie grinned, and carefully rolled over on top of you, moving to pull off and toss aside his robe. “Oh, but we mustn’t wake her.” 

You giggled at his sarcasm. “Oh, we absolutely can’t. We’re only fucking in our flat, after all.” 

He smiled so warmly at you then, that it melted you delightfully, his head resting against your chest, deep brown eyes staring happily into yours. “We are. Does that mean...I mean, should I tell John-” 

“To let the other tenants do whatever they want, because I’ve already got a flat to stay in?” you interrupted softly. “Yeah. If you’ll have me, I want to be here, with you.” 

You could feel his joy in his kiss, in the grinding of his hips against yours, how his hands traced their way around your body. 

“Is that a yes?” you laughed when he stopped for a breath. 

“Of course it is,” he smiled. “Bonus, you know she’ll just die when she finds this out.” 

“God, she really will,” you said. “Is it wrong that I’m enjoying that?” 

“Not at all,” Freddie said. “You should enjoy this too.” 

He slipped down between your legs, and tapped the waistband of the pajama trousers you wore. “These need to go.” 

“Permanently?” 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Freddie said, and carefully yanked them off of you as you lifted your hips for him. “Those too.” 

You helped him yank off your pants as well, then gestured to his sweatpants. “And those?” 

“Will be off when they need to be,” Freddie replied. “We’ve got you to take care of first.” 

You knew exactly what he could do with that mouth, his lips and tongue working in tandem with his fingers on your dick and cunt, but it still made you gasp as he set to work, and you slapped a hand over your mouth. 

He lifted his head up, and grinned. “There’s just no keeping you quiet, is there?” 

“You’ll have to keep doing this until I learn,” you replied. “I don’t know how else I might finally get it down.” 

“Practice makes perfect,” he said, mimicking your mother, and you bit back a laugh. 

“God! Not that, not here! Do not bring her in here, this is a sacred place!” 

“It is,” he murmured, and dipped his head back down, his tongue again in your folds, and you sighed. 

He kept you just on the edge, never letting you fall all the way over, and that made it slightly easier to keep quiet, if only because you bit down on your fist each time you got close. 

Finally, it was too much to take, and you tapped his shoulder furiously. 

“Hold on. I want you inside when I come,” you said raggedly. He was, thus far, the only man who could make that happen for you. Not that you’d been with that many men to begin with, but there was something about the chemistry you had with Freddie, the attention he paid to you and your body, that made it better than anyone from before. 

He nodded, and stood to finish undressing. “How do you want it?” 

“Can I turn over, and just lay prone? I don’t think that’ll make too much noise with the bed,” you replied.

“And you love it that way,” Freddie teased.

“That too,” you admitted. “But I also really don’t want her knocking on the door while we’re in the middle of this.” 

“Fair enough,” Freddie said. “I don’t either.” 

“Condoms are in my bag,” you said as you rolled onto your stomach, shoving a pillow under your hips for decent leverage. 

“Got it,” Freddie said, and you heard him rustling through your still not-totally-unpacked luggage until he found them. 

There was a sound outside the bedroom door, and you both froze.

“I love you, but I swear to god, if your mother is listening to us fuck,” Freddie whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back, turning to watch the door so he could focus on putting on the condom. “I think we’re okay though. If she’s out there, at least she isn’t trying to get in.” 

“Darling, you really need to raise your standards there,” Freddie said, and gestured for you to turn back again. 

It was a comforting ritual by now, the feeling of him lubed up, slipping inside of you, and found yourself biting your fist again to contain the very happy sigh and moan it elicited. 

“How much money do you think I’d have to make before we could just do this every day?” Freddie whispered as he slowly thrust, his skin warm against yours.

“To what? Spend all day fucking whenever we want, and doing whatever else we want in between?” 

He nodded against your shoulder, biting it gently to soften a moan. 

“What about the band?” 

“We’d make enough so they could retire and do this too, with their spouses, girlfriends, whoever they end up with,” he replied after a moment. 

You caught his rhythm, your hips moving in time with his. “I think that would be okay then. But I have no idea how much you’d need to make.” 

“I’m going to find out,” he said, his voice dropping deeper as his hips moved faster, slightly harder against you. “And then as soon as I’ve got enough, we’re moving elsewhere. Or at least, keeping a house here, but living elsewhere more often. Montreux maybe, or Ibiza.” 

“As long as I’m there with you, I don’t care where we end up,” you sighed.

“Your hometown?” he giggled, matching it with a snap of his hips and a thrust that made you moan into the mattress. 

“Not there,” you laughed quietly. “Anywhere but there.” 

There was a sound again outside of the door, and he grumbled. 

“I swear, she’s out there. She’s listening for us! Go to bed, for fuck’s sake!” 

“Let’s give her something to hear then,” you said, as the sound of footsteps near the door came through it clearly, again. 

He slipped out of you, and you whined the feeling, but quickly stood and tossed the pillow to the floor so he could lay back on the bed, even though your legs were jelly. 

You slipped him back inside of you carefully as you straddled him, and smirked as the mattress creaked with the motion.

“This is a little bit evil, you know that?” he grinned. 

“It is, but so is purposefully listening to your kid fuck,” you said, working your hips slowly as Freddie’s hand toyed with your dick, just the way you liked. 

The mattress let out a groan of its own, and you fought back a laugh as the footsteps outside the door pattered quickly away.

Freddie moved carefully but quickly, adjusting so he was sat up against the bed frame, you in his lap. He could thrust, and you could meet him perfectly, and the mattress seemed to hate that position even more with the sounds it made. 

You were both a wonderful wreck, caught in between fevered moans and laughter at each creak of the bed. 

“I’d love to torment her more, but I’m not going to last much longer,” you sighed. 

He nodded, his eyes closed, lips pressing kisses to your neck, your chest, your face, anywhere he could reach, and that was answer enough to know that he was close too. 

You struggled to keep quiet as you came, grinding against him as hard as you could without risk of hurting him (though you still had a feeling you might leave a bruise or two on his hip bones.) He did his best as well, kissing you and moaning into your mouth as he shuddered, his cock pulsating inside of you. 

You both rested for a moment like that, kissing hard as you came back down. 

Suddenly, from just outside the bedroom door you heard it: a scandalized “Oh goodness!” and footsteps running away again.

“I didn’t even hear her come back over,” you whispered.

“You were busy with more important things,” Freddie smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips before he let you move off of him, groaning as he slipped out of you. “I hate that she’s here, but I love fucking like that.” 

“Spite fucking?” 

“I don’t know if that’s the exact right thing to call it, but sure, let’s go with that for now,” he replied. “Do we have a towel in here? I don’t want to have to walk past her to clean up.” 

“We do, thankfully,” you said, and tossed it over to him. “You first, then me.” 

After you were both cleaned up, the condom tossed away, you flopped back into bed, boneless.

“Maybe she’ll be gone when we wake up,” you pondered. “That would be too good to be true though, wouldn’t it?” 

He snuggled against you. “Probably. But we can always hope. And if she isn’t, she will be after we set her up with a hotel.” 

“And then we can fuck as loudly as we want,” you yawned. 

He nodded, his breathing slowed, and you could tell he was already essentially asleep. 

That was one other thing you could spitefully enjoy too. You and Freddie sleeping deeply and happily together, while she slept fitfully on the couch, likely horrified at the fact that you had dared to let your ‘bedroom activities’ make any noise at all.

\---

You woke to the rapping of a fist on the bedroom door, and sighed. 

“Hi, Mum. We’ll be up in a minute!” 

“It’s nearly noon!” she shouted through the door. “If you hadn’t stayed up so late...” 

Freddie grumbled as he woke, rubbing at his eyes. “Did she seriously just admit to hearing us fuck, and being awake for all that?” 

“I think she did,” you groaned. “Jesus.” 

“Maybe she’ll volunteer to go to a hotel,” Freddie said, yawning as he rolled out of bed. 

“I hope so,” you said. “You would think, after last night...” 

You pulled on your pajama pants, and stumbled out of the room with a yawn.

“Oh! Y/N! A shirt, for goodness’ sake!” your mother nearly shouted. 

“Why?” Freddie asked as he popped around you, his own chest bare, the sweatpants from last night slung low on his hips. You could see just a hint of the bruises at his hip bones, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. 

“This isn’t funny!” your mother whined. “You know I don’t like...looking at them. Put on a shirt, please.” 

Freddie frowned, and turned to look at your bare chest. “I’m missing something.” 

Your mother rolled her eyes, and pointed as exaggeratedly as it seemed she could manage. “Those...scars.” 

“Oh, these?” Freddie said, and came back up behind you, wrapping you in a hug, his fingers tracing your scars delicately. “I don’t see anything wrong with them. They’ve healed well, and even if they hadn’t, who cares? Y/N is gorgeous no matter what.” 

She seemed shocked into silence, and picked up her travel bag of toiletries from her suitcase before stomping off into the bathroom. 

“Good start to the day,” you sighed. 

“Could have been worse,” Freddie said, gently kissing your neck before leading you into the kitchen. “Breakfast?” 

“I don’t think I can stomach anything,” you muttered. 

“You should eat something,” Freddie said. “Anything.” 

“Thank you, darling,” you replied. “But I really don’t think I can.” 

He nodded. “Later, maybe. After-” 

The door to the bathroom opened, and he leaned close to you and whispered. “After we’ve dropped her off at a hotel.” 

“Well,” your mother said as she started to fuss through her luggage for a change of clothes. “What are we going to do today?” 

Before either of you could answer, the phone rang. 

Freddie jumped to answer it, only to lean back out of the bedroom as soon as he had. “Y/N, we’re needed. Something quite serious.” 

His tone was worried, but that worry on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was up. 

He darted back in to finish the call, and was back out a moment later, all in a rush towards your mother. “We’ll need to get ready, straight away. We’ll have just enough time to drop you off at a hotel; there’s one only ten minutes from us.” 

“I-” 

“You understand,” he interrupted her. “Tour preparation problems, the whole thing could be shot if we don’t get over there and help.” 

In her eyes, you could see an argument brewing, but instead she started to rifle though through her clothes, apparently to dress. 

You wanted desperately to ask him exactly what was going on, but knew that to let on that this was at all unusual might break whatever plan was in place. And this had to be a scheme of some sort; you suspected Roger. 

But it worked. She packed in a panicked rush, and let you and Freddie shepherd her out of the flat after you were both dressed and ready yourselves. 

“This _is_ nicer than his apartment,” your mother remarked as you watched Freddie check her in, handing over the money for at least a week-long stay as if it were nothing. 

You had a hundred and one angry responses to that, but held them back. “...I’m just glad you like it, Mum. You’ll be able to rest, figure out if you want to explore the city some while we’re fixing whatever’s gone wrong.” 

“And then you’ll come back to spend the evening with me,” she said, a fact, not a question or request. 

Before you could reply, Freddie was back. “Here’s your key. You go on and settle in, and of course, you can call us later if you need anything.” 

“Well, actually-” 

“We’ll call you later if you don’t call us, to check up on you,” Freddie said cheerfully as he led you to the door of the hotel. Under his breath, he whispered, “Come on, Y/N, don’t give her another moment, or we’ll never get away!” 

“Do I get to know what’s wrong now?” you asked as you left the hotel, breaking into a light jog to catch up to him as he hailed a cab. 

“You’ll see,” he replied. “But I can tell you where we’re going.” 

“The studio, or some sort of headquarters?” 

He shook his head. “Brian’s.” 

“You know that doesn’t clear this up in the slightest, right?” 

“I know,” he grinned. “But does it matter right now?” 

“You know...it doesn’t,” you found yourself smiling. “It’s a break from her, and that sounds wonderful.” 


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brunch, girls’ days out, lads’ days in, and sometimes the best therapy comes from four people who are your friends but also whom you work for (at least in lieu of actual therapy, and during a brunch with weak mimosas.) 
> 
> Also Chrissie takes on Y/N’s mum in a wonderful yet polite way while Rico Nasty’s ‘Smack A Bitch’ plays essentially. She’s a fuckin’ rock star in her own right in this chapter (who does not smack anyone, but like...the Tension is there.) 
> 
> tw for misgendering, weight talk (...look we’re just not. gonna talk abt what of my own issues w/my mum I’m working out here. It’s just. happening and I’m rolling w/it.), casual transphobia and microaggressions from Y/N’s mum. Pretty frank descriptions and discussion of emotional abuse and fear of physical abuse. This one is...heavy. Take care in reading, y’all. 
> 
> We are eventually going to get to some lightness again in this fic, I promise!
> 
> also I can’t decide how I wanna spell John’s nickname, so I just winged it and decided on one spelling at random here lol.

“This is the emergency?” you scoffed, staring at the dishes and plates piled high with breakfast foods on the coffee table in Brian’s sitting room.

“Yeah,” Roger grinned. “We’ve got this lovely brunch, and two more place settings that are empty, and well, now here you both are!” 

“Did you do this just to get her off our backs and into a hotel?” you asked.

“Well, that and I wanted breakfast,” Roger replied. “So I called up Brian and Chrissie, and we got to work; John brought toast-” 

John nodded, a piece of it in his mouth while he reached for a scone. 

“And now here we are! And after a night of dealing with her, you need something like this.” 

“Wasn’t all dealing with her,” Freddie grinned, and you gave him a light jab in the ribs. “Was dealing with someone else too.” 

“Is that what you’re calling it now?” you teased. “Are you going to ‘deal with me’ later, since the flat will be ours alone again?” 

“Down, you two,” Brian laughed. 

“Or you’ll get the hose?” 

“He’ll do it,” Roger said far too seriously, and you wondered exactly what story hid behind that comment. 

But there was no time to ask, as a sudden loud knock on the door startled you all. 

“Who on earth?” Brian muttered, and tried to lean from his seat to look out the front window. “That’s a cab leaving. Who else would be coming here by cab?” 

Your hands shook slightly as it dawned on you, and you set down the plate you’d started to fill with food. 

“Oh fucking hell,” Roger spat, looking through the spyhole of the front door. “Guess who?” 

You carefully but quickly moved from your seat near John, and started for the back door. 

“No, Y/N,” Freddie called, scrambling up to retrieve you. “Be calm. It’s going to be alright.” 

The knocking was more insistent now, just as loud as before. 

“She’ll wear her knuckles through the damned door,” Roger muttered. “Ridiculous.” 

“I’m calm, you said. “Perfectly calm. It’s just that she’s here, and she shouldn’t be because we just left her at the hotel, and how did she even fucking find us-” 

“I love you, but this is the exact opposite of calm,” Freddie cut you off as you babbled. “We’ll get you out of here. Now, she might see us out the back door somehow, so Brian, which upstairs window would you suggest is easy enough for us to climb out of?” 

“What?” Brian frowned. “None of them, because you can’t climb out my fucking windows and go running across the roof?” 

“Now Brian, we’ve talked about refusing new ideas without even trying them and how detrimental that can be-” 

“Yeah, in regards to like...new food in new places while on tour,” Brian interrupted. “Not about you clambering about the rooftop via my windows!” 

“Necessity demands it, Brian!” 

“Even if it did, the back door is still the only option!” Brian sighed, clearly exasperated. “Is she that bad?” 

Roger nodded, eyes wide open as he walked back to the table, snagged a full champagne flute of mimosa, and drained it. . 

“Well, I can’t just leave her out there!” Brian protested, heading for the door. 

“What is all this racket?” Chrissie asked as she ran from downstairs to the door. “All of you that sloshed already you can’t answer the door? There’s barely any champagne in the mimosas...” 

“Chrissie no!” Whether Roger was bemoaning her opening the door or the lack of extra champagne in the mimosas you weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter if it was just one or both, as your mother waltzed in as if she owned the place. 

“Y/N! You left me no phone number to reach you at, and I have a question about the hotel, an important one!” 

“Yes?” you asked, hoping it was actually important.

“Well, I need to know if the hotel serves breakfast, because I am hungry, but you both left in such a hurry! So I had the concierge help me get the same cab you both used, and then I told him I was meant to have gone with you, and that nice gentleman drove me here! But look at all this! Is this the ‘tour emergency’ you were called to solve?” 

“We’re discussing that issue over brunch,” Brian said quickly. 

“They are,” Chrissie immediately backed him, and you wanted to hug her. “So, you’re Y/N’s mother? I’ve been able to hear from upstairs, Y/N has told the boys so much about you!” 

“All good?” your mother asked, a hint of ice in her voice. 

But Chrissie was a natural, or at least wasn’t about to be talked down to in her own home. “Of course! You know, since you mentioned breakfast; I was going to meet Brian’s mum in about an hour for an early lunch. But you could surely come with us; we could even leave early, do some shopping, if you’ve any favorite shops you’d like to stop at.” 

“I’ve never been here before,” your mother said in a voice that rudely insinuated Chrissie should somehow have magically known that.

“Even better!” Chrissie caught your eye and gave a near-imperceptible nod of assurance. “In fact, why not make it a girls’ trip, since the boys have taken over the space here for work? Rog, John? Why not call up your mums, see if they’d like to have a girls’ day out!” 

Roger and John obediently stood and went to the phone, but you couldn’t relax yet. All this was doing was exposing her to more people, surely-

“I’ll call Mary,” Freddie’s voice interrupted your on-the-verge-of-derailing train of thought. “She’d love to join you all, I’m sure.” 

“The more the merrier,” Chrissie said warmly, but you tried to flash him a look that read ‘no’ regardless. Adding in more people couldn’t be the solution. 

Freddie only shook his head at you, and went to wait his turn for the phone, while Chrissie pulled your mother into the kitchen for a cup of tea. 

“You okay?” Brian asked softly as he sat back in his seat. 

“Do you have a sinkhole in the garden I could jump into?” 

“We’ve not had the sinkhole put in yet, sorry,” he smiled sweetly. “I really think this will be better than you must be imagining. Maybe this will help her loosen up, get her off of your back for a bit.” 

“You’re all very kind to me, and to her,” you said. “But she’s not that easily handled. She never has been, and eventually everyone hits their breaking point with her.” 

“Then we’ll just hope that she’s on her way home before any of us reach that point,” Brian said. “Don’t stress more over it, you’ll only do yourself in.” 

“Okay,” you mumbled, and dropped your head into your hands as you went back to your seat. 

“Have a scone, breathe. You’ll be fine, everything will be.” 

You broke off a piece of the scone he handed you and jammed it into your mouth. It was good, but you knew you’d only start to feel better and safe once she was out of the house. 

“They all said yes!” Freddie chirped as he came back in and sat down beside you. “Oh, you look like you’re about to cry. Please don’t, it’s really going to be alright.” 

“That’s what I said,” Brian replied, distracted by something as he leaned back in his seat to look into the kitchen. “I think I get what you’re talking about with her now. How she is, all that.” 

“How so?” Freddie asked.

“Well, Chrissie is shooting me her ‘christ almighty come save me’ look, and that’s only used in desperate times, so-” 

You interrupted him with a frustrated groan, and shoved another bit of scone in your mouth to hold off the tears. 

“I’ll go in and help her out, give her a break for a moment,” Brian said. “Probably good I get to know your mum too, if I’m going to help deal with her, right?” 

“Flawed thinking,” Roger warned as he came back into the room and dropped into the nearest seat (John’s, as it happened.) “I fell for it too, last night. But go on, join us in our misery.” 

Brian rolled his eyes and started towards the kitchen, John popping back in and taking his chair as soon as he was up. 

“So...you know the rest of this brunch is you telling us all about her, right? We can’t talk about anything else now.” 

You sighed. “What all do you want to know?” 

“Everything! Has she always been like this? If so, do you know why? And if you don’t know, why don’t you? Did you do something to her, did someone else? Did-” 

“Deacy,” Roger said. “One at a time; he’s already a mess! And let’s at least wait until she leaves.” 

“And what are we to talk about in the meantime?” John scoffed.

“Saw a squirrel fighting a bird for a bit of biscuit on someone’s lawn this morning,” Roger said. “How about that?” 

John thought for a moment, then nodded. “Who won?” 

Before Roger could reply, your mother swooped back in, Brian and Chrissie right behind her. 

“So, Y/N, I am being treated to a girls’ day out!” she squealed happily. 

Brian rolled his eyes, and shot you a sympathetic look.

“Now, I just wanted to address...” she continued. “I mean, well. It’s for girls, and you...technically...I mean you are, or were, but you are and aren’t and um. I don’t want you to feel bad that you aren’t coming with, you know, but...I mean, if we were designating it by what’s in our pants, it might be different, and-” 

You had never witnessed a shared group look of terror, but it was a hell of a thing to see as it enveloped everyone, as it dawned on them what she was trying to say. 

“Y/N is a part of our uh...call it a lads’ day in,” John interrupted before she could blather any more. “Also, part of tour prep as a member of the road crew.” 

You nodded, fighting off the anxiety attack threatening to break forth. 

“So no need for apologies or worries or anything else,” Roger added. “You’re doing your thing, having your day, and he’s here with us having his, all is well.” 

“I know, but-” your mother started. 

“If you’re worried about the boys keeping busy and entertained,” Chrissie interrupted. “Don’t. They keep each other plenty busy, don’t you all?” 

As you nodded with the rest of the guys, you wished you could thank her now for taking your mother head on like she was. She certainly was under no obligation to do so, but she had, and it was the kindest gift she could have given you, someone she barely knew. 

Your mother opened her mouth yet again, but Brian didn’t let her get a syllable out. 

“You know, we have a cat! Y/N mentioned you like cats. Squeaky is out in the garden, you ought to go meet her.” 

“That is a wonderful idea,” Chrissie agreed, bouncing up on her feet to give him a kiss before gently but steadily taking your mother by the arm and leading her out to the garden. 

As she left, the tension in the room went with her. 

“Right, so the squirrel won,” Roger said. “But back to Deacy’s questions, and I’ll echo one of them as politely as I can: what in the fuck is her problem?” 

You laughed. You couldn’t help it; you’d reached a breaking point with the oddness of it all and how horrendous you feared it might turn the longer your mother was around. “You’re asking me?” 

Roger nodded.

“If I knew, I would have found a way to do something about it by now,” you continued. “Trust me. I’d love to say she would try therapy, or something to work on herself, but she won’t. So we’ll likely never have an answer to that question. And even if we did get one, she’d find a way to make it someone else’s fault. God, I have...years of stories, that rightfully no one wants to hear, of frustration and anger over dealing with her and the hurt I’ve hung onto and-scones! Are my favorite, I just can’t help myself around them.” 

Your mother walked back in just in time for the last sentence, and smirked. “I think they can see that. Y/N has always had a bit of a tummy, but you’re working on it now, right? You always said you wanted to slim down after you started all of-” 

She made a gesture towards her own chest and crotch. “That ‘stuff.’ Be a shame to waste all the hard work those doctors put in for you, all over a few extra cookies you couldn’t say no to. And not to mention the money you paid! My goodness-” 

A car horn honked outside, and Roger darted up to look out the window. “Ah! There’s my mum with the car. Looks like she picked up the rest of the ladies first too! Right on to shopping then, how exciting!” 

You wanted to laugh, because he sounded the exact opposite of excited for shopping, but bless him, he was putting in the work to try. 

“Let’s get moving!” Chrissie had one hand on your mother’s shoulder urging her to the front door, the other taking her purse from Brian as he handed it to her. “Usual rules, boys. No fist fights, no live munitions, no setting the house on fire, no overfeeding the cat! We’ll see you all later!” 

Brian laughed and shook his head as they left, but pulled her close for just a moment to whisper something to her. 

“If you don’t mind, can I ask what you told her?” you asked. “Told her to resist the urge to kill my mum?” 

“No,” Brian said. “Just told her to call if she should need us. Maybe could have tacked that on though.” 

“Chrissie wouldn’t get caught anyway,” Roger said. “She’s a smart woman.” 

“I can’t decide if that’s reassuring or not, Rog,” Brian said with a slight frown. 

“Save you the decision, it is,” Roger replied. “Now. Y/N, you mentioned stories. Let’s hear them. The first ever Queen therapy brunch has officially begun, and we won’t even charge you.” 

You laughed, but shrugged. “Are you guys sure you want to hear all this? You don’t have to let me vent, and it’s probably not healthy to do it this way...” 

“You’re in a safe place, and we’re giving you permission to vent to us,” Brian said. “Go for it.” 

“We’ll need tea,” Freddie fretted. “What’s out here has gone cold, Brian-” 

“I’ve got it,” Brian smiled. “I’ll put some on, you all get started. If you talk loud enough, Y/N, I can hear you from the kitchen.” 

“I...I don’t know where to start,” you hesitated. “No one has ever really let me just...talk about it. I mean, looking back, there were days where she was my hero. She taught me to be kind, to love others, to treat people and animals well and with respect. She would do nice things for me, like make my favorite dinner or buy me a toy.” 

They all nodded, and it was both odd and nice to have people clearly listening and caring. 

“Then other days...she was a nightmare. I was honestly terrified of her. She never laid a hand on me, but she didn’t have to. When she got mad or frustrated or felt I’d done something wrong, and some days mind you, I couldn’t do anything right in her eyes...I’d always fear she would finally hit me. I still do, sometimes. But the yelling was enough. Some days it was just shaming and lecturing. But it always makes me feel lesser. Like I’m not human enough. Or like I’m too much to deal with to be around anyone.” 

Their soft smiles at your opening up had faded, replaced with winces and looks of horror. 

“Y/N...” Freddie said softly. “How long have you been hanging onto all this?” 

“Does it matter?” you shrugged. “She’ll never apologize for any of it. She doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong. Ask her about today, and I guarantee you, she won’t see that she did anything wrong with how she’s acted. This is how it’s always been, and probably always will be whenever she’s around. It’s so...heavy. I’ve been carrying her whenever she needed carrying, in addition to holding myself up, and my back has broken from it so many times already...but it doesn’t ever matter. I get back up, and I keep going forward, because that’s what I’ve always done.” 

“This isn’t right,” John said, an undercurrent of anger in his voice, even as he gently took a cup of tea from Brian, who was playing waiter as he handed them out. “I want to talk to her.” 

“I appreciate that,” you said quickly. “But you wouldn’t be the first. Some of my doctors tried. Stayed up late, due to the time difference, and called her all the way from Europe, while I was over here for all my transitioning things. She played along long enough to placate them, then yelled at me later saying they made her feel like a bad mother.” 

You threw up your hands. “And the worst bit? Today was a relatively tame day for her. Roger knows it, he got the brunt of a bad day with her last night.” 

Roger nodded. “Would you like to know how the rest of our conversation went last night, while you and Freddie were out getting dinner?” 

You winced. “Yes, and no?” 

“Very well,” Roger said. “I was trying to talk to her more about how much you’d enjoyed the Tate, and how happy you were here, how happy you make Freddie, how happy he makes you. Trying to get her to see things from your perspective, to help her worry less, you know?” 

“Thank you,” you said.

“Well, don’t thank me, because it didn’t work,” Roger scoffed, and grabbed another full flute to sip from. “She started going on about ‘what about her, and her feelings, and I could never understand how she feels and we don’t know you well enough to really get it all’ and I-” 

He took another sip. “I admit, I got upset on your behalf. I reminded her that you’re an adult, and you deserve to go out and live your life as you want. She claimed not to disagree with that, but then immediately did by saying she felt you needed her close by, and how could she do that with you out here.” 

“And that’s how you got to talking about your mum and how she parented you, and my mum insulting her,” you said. “Jesus. I’m sorry, Rog.” 

“Don’t be sorry, you’ve done nothing wrong!” Roger replied. “She should be sorry, but like you said...she doesn’t seem the apologizing type.” 

“I’ve never been so glad to have such a variety of scones,” you murmured. 

“Scones and tea will ease the pain,” Freddie joked. “Or at least, give you something to do besides worry about her.” 

“How could you tell?” you asked. 

“Just a feeling,” Freddie said. “And the look on your face. Like you’ve been force-fed rancid food or something. You only do that when you’re worrying yourself into a panic.” 

“I could never play poker,” you sighed, and there was a beat before they burst into laughter. 

“That is...the oddest thing to say after all of this,” John said, shaking his head. “I like it. Good on you for it, you can still laugh. That’s something you have over her, you know.” 

You nodded. “I suppose it is. Not much, but-” 

“No,” Freddie said, and took your hands in his. “Anything you have over her, is something. Is important. Is special. And you have more than you know, because you’re doing all these things she either couldn’t or wouldn’t do. You’re trying to be happy, to live life the way you want. To travel, to take risks, to do what you love doing. But she, to me, seems she will always be stuck mentally just where she is: unhappy with what she didn’t do, but unwilling to make any changes for herself, and putting the blame elsewhere.” 

There were tears at the edges of his eyes, and you sighed shakily. “Don’t you cry, I’ll start then.” 

Brian raised a hand to catch your eye, and you turned to him. “Sorry. Already on that train. My parents weren’t perfect, but...I think I need to take them out to dinner, or something, soon. Have them over for a night or something.” 

Roger and John were in similar straits, eyes red, sniffling quietly. 

You let the tears fall as Freddie pulled you close for a hug, and smiled as you watched him wipe away tears of his own after he let you go. 

“Lord. What a mess I’ve made of us,” you tutted. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Brian said. “You’re a part of this weird little family, whether you like it or not.” 

Roger nodded. “Means we care about you, and whatever bullshit is getting you down, and we’re here for you. You’ll have to get used to that before the next tour starts, you know.” 

“I can try,” you said with a soft and shaky laugh. 

“That’s all we ask,” John said. “Also, that you eat some more. God, this is almost too much food.” 

“We can send everyone home with leftovers,” Brian said. “Enough that we might get away with minimal grocery buying before the tour starts. No worries about any extra going to waste while we’re gone, for once.” 

“What a mix,” Freddie laughed. “We’ve got Indian at home, now a full English breakfast...” 

“Home?” John asked, an eyebrow raised. “Rog thought you might be telling me about this soon. Should I take it you’ve decided to stay with Fred?” 

You nodded happily, the tears drying as you settled into it, the new connection and comfort you had with all of them. “I have. Let the tenants in that other flat do whatever they want. I’ve got my home.” 

“With a fridge that might run out of room,” Freddie said with a sigh. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you said. “Or eat bigger meals.” 

“How utterly domestic,” Roger smiled. “Look at you two! But I like seeing it. And so help me, if your mother tries to go back to your flat, I will-” 

The phone rang, and silence fell. 


End file.
